


Strange Affairs

by fishkybuns



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mammett, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishkybuns/pseuds/fishkybuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marty finds a wallet while cutting from school early one day, and it turns out to be his High School Principal's, Gerald Strickland. He decides to turn it over to him later that night, where some questionable events take place following the consumption of alcoholic beverages.</p>
<p>Past relationships will be revealed and jealousy will run high.</p>
<p>*Later chapters will contain Doc/Marty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Affairs

Marty snuck around the empty hallways of his high school, being careful not to get noticed. Doc had asked him to meet him at his place for help with a new experiment at three in the afternoon. Marty said yes, not caring that he would still be at school. He'd just cut out early, no big deal. His last period was just gym class anyway, which he never participated in.  
  
He slipped out the side door that let out to the faculty parking lot, knowing that all of the teachers and faculty would be working at this time, leaving him free to escape. Skateboard in hand, he was ready to take off on the asphalt. But before he could something caught his eye on the pavement. It was a black bill fold. He trotted over to it and picked it up, opening it to check the ID. Gerald Strickland.  
  
"Oh shit," Marty laughed to himself upon reading the name. The wallet belonged to his High School Principal. Marty tucked it in his back pack for now. He had all intentions of returning it, but if he did it now Strickland would know he wasn't in class. He would return it after he helped Doc out he decided. It would be easy too, he had his home address now.  
  
He tossed his board down on the pavement and with a few scoots he was off, heading towards Doc's garage.  
  
***  
  
Marty stayed with Doc a lot longer than he expected. He helped him with his experiment and work, and while he took Einstein on a walk Doc ordered a pizza for their dinner. The two laughed and talked for a couple hours, watching one of their favorite westerns together as they demolished the pizza.  
  
Marty took a glance at his watch. 8 o'clock in the evening. "Ah man, I gotta get goin', Doc." The teenager said, hopping off the couch and going for his back pack.  
  
Doc paused the video tape. "What's the rush, Marty? The movie's just getting good!" he protested, always enjoying his time with his dear young friend.  
  
"Sorry, it's just I found Strickland's wallet today when I was leaving to come here, and I want to return it to him before he tries replacing everything in it, you know?" He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his skateboard that was leaning against the wall.  
  
"Your principal? You're going to his house? Tonight?" Emmett asked, his tone was off, but Marty couldn't quite place what it was.  
  
Marty turned around to face his friend. "Yeah. What's the big deal, Doc?" He felt a bit confused.  
  
Emmett simply shook his head. "It's nothing, I suppose. Just be careful."  
  
Marty looked Doc over for a moment, trying to read him. "Don't worry, Doc. It isn't that late yet. I'll stop by before school in the morning, okay?"  
  
Doc happily nodded. "I look forward to it."  
  
Marty flashed a grin and a wink before jetting out the door and taking off. Doc sighed to himself after he left, sinking back onto the couch. He ran a hand through his white hair and turned the television off with the other.  
  
***  
  
Gerald Strickland sat in his kitchen at his dining room table, nursing his glass of scotch on the rocks and thumbing through a novel. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, his head slightly swimming. Today was not his day. He was late getting to work that morning after a woman hit his car from behind. No real damage was done and he was fine. But a stressful moment nonetheless. His assistant principal was out sick as well, doubling his work load. And to top it all off, he lost his wallet. He hoped someone would find it and return it by tomorrow, but he knew better. One of those slackers would find it, laugh about how Strickland would never see it again, and take off with his cash. He sighed, placing his book down after marking his page. It was getting difficult to read anyway. He thought perhaps he'd just go to bed when he heard his door bell ringing.  
  
His brow furrowed. Who the hell was ringing his door bell at this time of night? He made his way to the door, stumbling only once. Looking through the peephole he saw Marty McFly. The door was chained locked, and he opened it as far as he could, peeking his face through the opening. Marty smiled nervously, the smell of alcohol was something he was very familiar with and he recognized it right away.  
  
"What are you doing at my house, McFly?" He asked suspiciously.  
  
"Hello to you too, Mister Strickland." Marty replied with a hint of attitude feeling a little annoyed.  
  
Strickland was quiet for a moment, expecting the boy to explain why he was there. After a moment when he didn't say anything he reworded his question. "What is it?"  
  
Marty reached into his back pocket pulling out the simple black bill fold, shaking it playfully near the crack. "I found this."  
  
Strickland's expression softened quickly at the sight of his lost wallet. He closed the door and the jingling sound of metal could be heard as he unlatched the chain quickly. He opened the door again, fully this time, and stepped to the side.  
  
"Come inside." The man offered, taking a sip from his glass.  
  
Marty hesitated for a moment, glancing behind him before stepping inside past the man. Strickland shut the door and locked it.  
  
It felt strange to be in his principal's home. He let his eyes wander for a moment. They were in the man's living room. It looked surprisingly normal. A couch facing towards a television. A cozy recliner as well. Pictures on the walls and book shelves full of books. He was snapped back to attention by the sound of Strickland clearing his throat. He turned to the man who was holding his free hand out.  
  
"Oh, sorry." He mumbled as he handed over the man's wallet.  
  
Strickland didn't say anything. He clumsily opened the wallet to check it's contents. He completely expected all the cash to be missing. But it wasn't. A surprised hum escaped him and he placed the wallet down on the nearby coffee table.  
  
"I must say I'm surprised that you of all people returned my wallet to me, much less with everything still inside." Strickland spoke calmly, turning back to Marty, who looked annoyed and a little insulted.  
  
Marty snorted. "Yeah well, you're welcome I guess." He turned to walk back to the door and leave, but was stopped with a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Wait. Wait, I'm sorry." He sighed. "You went out of your way to help me out, I didn't mean to insult you. You . . . want a drink? As a thank you."  
  
Marty blinked before letting out a laugh. "You're offering a student a drink? Like, a drink drink?"  
  
Strickland shrugged lightly. "What the hell? So you want one or not?" He said, already heading back into the kitchen.  
  
Marty quickly followed suit. He liked to drink, and it could be kind of difficult to obtain alcohol at his age. Plus it sounded entertaining to have a drink or two with his usually strict principal.  
  
The teenager pulled a chair out and casually sat. "Whatcha got?"  
  
"Well," he began, moving a few bottles around in his liquor cabinet to read the labels. "I'm drinking scotch on the rocks, but I imagine that wouldn't be up your alley. No offense really. It's just harsh." He pulled out a half empty bottle of spiced rum and fetched a clean glass from his cabinet, putting them on the table in front of Marty. "I've got Pepsi in the fridge. You seem like a rum and cola kind of guy." He smirked slightly at Marty before going to his fridge to pull out a partially drank two litter of soda.  
  
Marty shook his head in disbelieve and let out a little laugh. "This is far out. I never thought you'd be making me a drink in your kitchen, Strickland.  
  
The older man snorted in amusement and sat down across from Marty, opening the containers and pouring the proper amounts of each liquid to make the boy's drink. "It never crossed my mind either, McFly. I've always considered you a no good slacker. But you brought my wallet back and didn't take my money. You didn't have to do that, you know. You could have just been a punk, pocketed my money and threw the rest in the garbage. And I would have never known it was you." He was rambling a bit, but Marty didn't mind. It was kind of cool to see the man calm.  
  
"Yeah well, I'm not like that." He picked up the glass that was poured for him and raised it towards Strickland's glass, lightly tapping it against it. "Cheers." He smiled at the man and they both took a swig from their cups.  
  
Marty's lips stretched over his teeth and he hissed. "Phew! Man, you sure make a strong drink!" He chuckled. "But I like it. Thanks, by the way." He added before taking another healthy gulp.  
  
Strickland eyed the boy as he sipped from his glass. Had he always been so handsome? Or was the alcohol playing tricks on his mind? Not that it mattered, Marty was always running around with that no good tart, Jennifer Parker. Marty clearly had no interest in men; especially older men. Or did he? He did have a strange relationship with Doctor Emmett Brown. Either way though, Strickland knew it was not a good idea to have a sexual encounter with a student of his, regardless of the boy's possible orientations, even if the thought of it in his inebriated state was tempting. He was brought out of his thoughts when Marty spoke.  
  
"You sure are more laid back at home. I guess it's silly to assume that you'd be in principal mode all the time though, huh?" He said as he swirled his drink around in his glass in an attempt to mix it more thoroughly before gulping down a few more mouthfuls, wanting to feel the effects of the alcohol.  
  
"Yes, I suppose." He said. He actually was feeling very relaxed. More so now than he was when he was just drinking alone. He chocked it up to getting his wallet back, but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy the company.  
  
Marty finished his drink off with a final chug, hissing. Strickland smiled at him, finding it cute that a rum and coke was strong for him. "Can I pour you another?" He asked, placing his glass down and already reaching for the rum.  
  
Marty gave a nod, sliding his glass towards the man. "Sure, thanks." He could feel the heat in his cheeks already from the alcohol.  
  
Strickland mixed the teen another drink, this time putting more rum in it. "This'll get you going, McFly."  
  
The two continued to drink and talk casually. Nothing too personal at first. But by Marty's third drink he was feeling pretty drunk, and he started talking more freely. He talked about how beautiful Jennifer was and how much she seemed to like him. Yet he never mentioned how he felt about her, which struck the older man as odd. He talked about Doc, and he had no reservations on talking about how much he liked that man. Strickland was able to put the pieces together in his head, and at this point he was feeling drunk enough to not listen to his voices of reason.  
  
Marty rubbed at his eyes and glanced at his watch. "Shit, it's late. My parents are gonna start wondering where I am." His words were slightly slurred. The boy started to stand and lost his footing, stumbling to one side. But Strickland leapt to his feet and caught him before he could fall, holding him firmly. Marty giggled and clung to the older man, mumbling out an amused apology.  
  
However Strickland didn't loosen his grip on the boy, and after a few moments Marty began to wiggle around playfully. The older man could tell that this boy was drunk; really drunk. He was feeling quite light headed himself. Without thinking he let his hands wander across the boy's back, pressing his lips to Marty's heated neck.  
  
After Marty realized what was happening, he placed his hands in Strickland's shoulders and pushed. "What're you doing? Don't . . ." He was cut off when he felt teeth on his flesh, causing him to groan lowly. A hand was now on his ass, squeezing enthusiastically. Marty's head was swimming and his body was reacting to the stimulation. He hesitantly put his hands around the man's neck, which also assisted in holding himself steady.  
  
Strickland walked forward, Marty stepping backwards to keep up with him, and moved into the living room, pushing the boy easily onto the couch. Before Marty could tell what was going on, he realized his jeans had been unfastened and tugged down, feeling a warm moist mouth on his genitals. He stared down in disbelief as saw that Strickland was sucking him off. He breathed heavily through his mouth as he watched, it felt incredible. Jennifer had done it a few times to him, but if was always awkward and short lived. Strickland was bobbing his head up and down like his life depended on it.  
  
"Fucking hell, Mister Strickland." He breathed his words out in a hushed tone. Placing a hand on the mans bald head as he lulled his head back against the couch. He lifted his hips involuntarily, letting his mind wander, mumbling obscenities and saying crude encouraging things that he had heard in a porno he once watched. His breathing quickened as he felt his premature climax building up.  
  
He moaned loudly. "I'm—gonna cum, fuck!" He said through gritted teeth, his body tensing up and spasming as he ejaculated into the old man's mouth with a few spurts. Strickland groaned and eagerly swallowed the teen's semen, he casually sucked it a few more times until he heard Marty let out a small whimper. He planted a few soft kisses on the boy's thighs and hips, his own erection still raging on. He stopped his oral attention when Marty began shifting and moving.  
  
"Can I sleep here, Mister Strickland?" He asked gently, his eyes already closed. "I don't feel so hot."  
  
Strickland cleared his throat and did his best to fix Marty's jeans for him. He stood up and watched Marty slump over the couch with his face resting on the arm rest. The man pulled the afghan from the back of his couch over Marty and hesitated before waking away towards his room, closing it behind him.  
  
He sat in his bed and reflected on everything that just happened. He felt a pang of guilt and regret, knowing tomorrow this could turn into a problem. He sighed and sank into his bed, sliding his hand into his trousers and touching himself.  
  
***  
  
Marty stirred awake as the sun came I through the blinds. He squinted and groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Where the hell am I?" He mumbled to himself as he sat up and looked around the room. He heard a shower running and tried to make sense of things. The last thing he could remember was having a drink with his principal. And then it all came to him. He had a fuzzy visual of looking down at that bald head buried in his crotch.  
  
"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, jolting forward. His head swam and throbbed from the alcohol from the previous night. Marty decided it was best to get out of there before before Strickland came out. He looked at his watch; it was 7 o'clock.  
  
He stood on shaky legs and fixed his jeans, which were still undone from last night. He hastily looked around for his bag and skate board, which he found in the kitchen. Marty scooped them up and exited through the side door, quietly shutting it behind him.

 


End file.
